


a shared life

by iamnotalizard



Series: bakoda fleet week 2020 [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bato Kya and Hakoda all said traditional nuclear family?? never heard of her, Character Death, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hakoda Centric, M/M, Modern Era, as a treat, trans Bato
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25559590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnotalizard/pseuds/iamnotalizard
Summary: It takes longer than it should for Hakoda to realize how much of his life he shares with Bato.
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Past Kya/Hakoda
Series: bakoda fleet week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934482
Comments: 21
Kudos: 156
Collections: Bakoda Fleet Week 2020





	a shared life

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. bato is trans because i said so  
> 2\. i maintian that bato was and is a pretty boy  
> 3\. i'm not indigenous and while i did my best to represent inuit characters in a positive light, let me know if i did anything wrong and/or offensive and i'll work to fix it :^)

It takes longer than it should for Hakoda to realize how much of his life he shares with Bato. They had always been attached at the hip since they were old enough to cause trouble but still young enough to avoid punishment. Growing up, they shared nearly everything: food, toys, books, secrets, clothes (only for a few years though, at first Bato would only wear Hakoda’s, and then after they both had ‘boys clothes’, Bato got a growth spurt that seemed to rocket him above Hakoda), and even a car. When he started dating Kya, many people - including her - joked that she was getting two boyfriends for the price of one, considering how often Bato hung out with them, and, often unintentionally on all their parts, ended up tagging along for their dates. Even before Bato got his name, people would say that they were like brothers - and while Hakoda understood their sentiment, he always knew, deep down, that that wasn’t what they were. Bato’s frank and straightforward confession of his love when he was nineteen only confirmed it.

Not that that even changed anything - Hakoda was already three years into dating Kya, and all three of them lived together in a shitty apartment without heat for university (“Feels just like home!” Kya had declared their first winter there when the three of them were bundled in layers of sweaters and blankets because none of them thought they would need their parkas when they moved south together), and, Hakoda quickly learned, Bato had already cleared it with Kya before telling Hakoda.

“I know that nothing will come of this,” Bato said, voice deep and soothing. “I’m not trying to cause a rift or make you feel guilty. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I’m just tired of holding this in and lying to myself about how I feel.”

Hakoda had been silent for a minute, staring at his best friend, who went from looking nervous to loosening and looking relaxed as the seconds wore on as if he knew that the delay in reaction didn’t denote anything bad. Hakoda cleared his throat. “Uh… thank you, I guess? I didn’t know I was such a hot commodity that I was attractive to the most beautiful girl _and_ the prettiest boy of the tribe.”

Bato and Hakoda laughed, and from the next room over, he could hear Kya laughing too. For the longest time, Bato was right, nothing had come of that conversation - Hakoda and Kya continued to date, and eventually married. Bato, for his part, seemed to be more relaxed, like he lost a tension that Hakoda and Kya didn’t even notice he was developing. And while Bato dated a few men, nothing serious ever came of it. When asked, Bato would often shrug and say, “I’m happy as is,” and that would be the end of it. 

When Kya was first pregnant with Sokka, Hakoda had a brief worry, laced between all the excitement and overwhelming joy he felt, that things between them (between _him_ ) and Bato would finally change. Sure, nothing changed after he and Kya married and they finally decided it was time that they didn’t live all together - Bato only lived fifteen minutes away after all, and they often still had ‘sleepovers’ with all three of them - but surely their lives would get thrown into a loop with the arrival of a child. Admittedly, Hakoda was waiting for that moment, the moment where it was clear to the three of them that their trio no longer worked, that Bato would have to be abandoned at the sidelines so that Hakoda and Kya could raise their son.

It took until Katara was born for Hakoda to realize that the moment wasn’t going to come. If anything, Bato had become even closer to them, as he spent more time at their house to make sure Kya had everything she needed, to help them with cooking and cleaning, just to keep Kya company when she was having a tough time taking care of Sokka while being pregnant. When Hakoda was worried about raising two children, about his own abilities as a father, Bato was there to soothe and reassure him. When Kya got worried because her second pregnancy was turning out to be much harder than her first, her husband and Bato were next to her, calming her and helping her quell her worries. Hell, after Katara was born, Bato moved even closer to them - so instead of a fifteen-minute drive, it was only a ten-minute walk from his apartment to the Nootaikok household. 

After realizing how much time Bato spent at their house, how much care he held for his children, Hakoda felt bad for assuming that anything that their relationship would suffer from the addition of children. Many times he would come home from work to find Kya and Bato sitting on the living room floor, both speaking Inuktut to a semi-coherent Sokka and a babbling Katara. Then, Hakoda would change out of his work clothes and join them on the floor, kissing Kya on the lips and giving Bato a firm squeeze on the shoulder in greeting, before cooing at his children in their traditional language as well. 

And things were good, really good, for a long time. Bato was around for dinner at least once a week, Kya was able to return to work with less stress since there were three adults able to look after the kids, instead of just two, Hakoda and Kya got to go on dates with more frequency than any of their other friends since Bato was always happy and willing to babysit Katara and Sokka for an evening. They went on trips up to their village together, and when it was finally time for Kya and Hakoda to move houses, there was no question of if Bato was going to make sure that he lived close to them. Bato’s name and number were on every emergency contact list, he had a drawer of his things in a dresser in Kya and Hakoda’s room, and the few times that he dated anyone long enough to introduce them to his friends, they had to go through the strict screening process of Katara and Sokka asking, “ _Why are you dating our Bato?”_

And, silently, Hakoda liked that. _Our Bato._ That’s what he was, in all his 6’6, deep-voiced, long-haired glory. Bato was _theirs,_ was _his_ ; Bato was intricately, intrinsically connected to Hakoda and everyone that Hakoda loved. And he knew, even if he didn’t love Bato the way that Bato wanted to be loved by him, Bato liked being his Bato as well, liked being Kya’s and Sokka’s and Katara’s Bato. 

And then. Kya was sick and faster than anyone could comprehend, she was in the hospital and then. Kya died. Painful and sudden, like a bandage getting ripped off and it pulling off the scab underneath, Hakoda was left without a wife and with two children now mourning a mother decades too soon. There’s no sense of cosmic justice or sense in her death and it thrusts Hakoda into a painful fog. There’s no comfort in burying her in their ancestral home, in her family plot, so soon after her own grandfather’s passing, there’s no respite when Kanna agrees to move closer to Hakoda to help him with Sokka and Katara. 

It’s in that daze of grief and depression, that Bato seems to waltz in, keeping his family alive in the interlude between them burying Kya and Kanna finally being able to move down. Hakoda tries his best, but often it was Bato waking the kids up for school, making them cold breakfasts, and picking them up when the day was done. It was Bato that made sure the house had a semblance of hygiene, who tried to make sure that there was enough edible food in the house to sustain them. Barely anyone noticed, or if they did, no one questioned when Bato began sleeping in the guest bedroom at night, or how he would only return home to pick up more clothes, before returning to take care of his friend’s needs. When Kanna moved and got her own little house, a little less than a twenty-minute drive away, Bato pushed Hakoda into the car, after helping the kids pack their backpacks, and drove them all to Kanna’s so that the kids could spend a few days there. 

In their absence, Hakoda’s house felt empty, desolate, like a mausoleum, filled with the ghosts of a life he no longer had. And in their absence, Hakoda finally let himself collapse fully into Bato’s arms and wailed, nearly crumbling onto the floor in the living room. It must have been hours that they sat on the floor as he clutched Bato’s boney, hunched shoulders, burying his face in his chest, mind not processing Bato’s soothing words or the way that he was rubbing his back. Vaguely, Hakoda considered how cruel this was, demanding that the man who loved him, who had built his life around him, comfort him as he grieved for his wife. The thought was quickly banished, in a moment of clarity, when he heard Bato sniff as he quickly moved to wipe his own tears from his face.

In the days that Sokka and Katara were with their grandmother, Bato and Hakoda got more work done than they had during the three months since Kya’s death. With a herculean effort, they went through Kya’s belongings, picking through them like precious treasure or radioactive material, each item handled with care and love and fear. They went through everything in Hakoda’s bedroom, cleaning everything that Hakoda wanted to keep, packing away things that he thought the kids should be able to have one day, and Bato boxed up everything that they decided should be thrown out or donated. By the time that the two men brought Katara and Sokka home, the house was cleaner than it had been in months, and while Kya’s memory and presence were still clearly seen and felt, it was less suffocating, and all four of them finally felt like they were able to breathe.

Vaguely, Hakoda worried that Bato would leave, now that he was (nearly) back to functioning like the adult he was. The thought worried him, scared him even, the thought of being alone again (years later, he would realize he was never really alone, to begin with), the thought that Bato would start to move on with his life, now that he didn’t have to stick around to take care of Hakoda and his kids. The thought that Bato, _his Bato,_ would leave him, not as permanently but just as painfully as his Kya did, was enough to nearly send Hakoda back into a spiral. As if sensing his friend's fear, Bato never made any indication that he wanted to leave, that he wanted to move on or change his life. He was always there to wake the kids up when Hakoda could hardly get himself out of bed, was always there to remind Hakoda about the parent-teacher interview happening the next week, and was always there to wrap his arms around Hakoda’s shoulders, petting his hair as Kya used to, muttering condolences and reassurances in his ear after the kids were asleep and Hakoda could finally let himself cry.

It was nearly two years after Kya’s death when Hakoda finally noticed that Bato had actually moved into the guest bedroom, that Bato’s mail was now delivered to their address. It only takes some mild snooping to figure out that Bato didn’t renew his lease on his apartment. Distantly, Hakoda wondered if he should be upset that Bato took on this life change without asking, but he couldn’t bring himself to even mention it to Bato. It wasn’t like the ‘official’ move in even changed anything, as Bato had functionally been living with them since Kya passing.

In the years that followed Hakoda found solace in the new normal of his family. Hakoda never questioned why Bato remained by his side, in the room just down the hall, for all these years, even though both Sokka and Katara grew more curious as the years passed. In their own not-so-subtle way, they tried to figure out why Bato lived with them now, why he never moved out. 

(“Are you going to move in with your new boyfriend?” Sokka had asked once, over dinner, when he was fourteen, and Bato mentioned off-handedly that one of his co-workers asked him out. Bato looked surprised at the question, before shaking his head. 

“Sokka, I think that I would rather eat dirt than go on a date with him.” Hakoda laughed at the reply, and he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in,)

Not that Sokka or Katara could complain about the man’s presence; they loved Bato and were happy to have him in their lives, but the lack of clarity about who he was meant to be, what role he was trying to fill confused them. 

In the end, it was Sokka who asked the question when he was fifteen. Hakoda had been driving him home from the mall when he sprung the question. 

“Are you and Bato dating?”

Hakoda took his eyes off the road to stare at her for a moment. Belatedly, he realized that Sokka had asked him to pick him up, instead of just busing home, because he knew Hakoda wouldn’t be able to escape. He wondered if this was his influence or Bato's.

“What? No, of course not.”

“‘Cause if you _were_ , that’s fine! Katara and I like Bato, obviously, and he lives with us anyways, and we know he loved mom too and-”

“Sokka,” Hakoda interrupted, making him frown. He hated it when people spoke over him, but he had to amend the situation. “Bato and I aren’t dating. I’m not- I don’t- We. We’re not dating, okay?”

Sokka stared at him for a moment, before crossing his arms and huffing, “Okay.”

As much as Hakoda wishes he could pretend the conversation never happened, it sticks with him, repeating in his mind for days. _Katara and I like Bato… we know he loved mom too._

The idea of his kids being okay, maybe even happy, if they dated made Hakoda’s pulse quicken more than he’d care to admit. A few times Bato had asked him if he ever thought about trying to date again, and his excuse was always some mixture of, “I’m not ready” and “The kids wouldn’t like it” and “I don’t want them to think I’m replacing Kya.”

But Bato has always been in their lives, has always been rolling his eyes fondly as Hakoda, and eventually, Sokka, made bad jokes, always listened to his children’s impassionate rants, always gently corrected their pronunciation of English and Inuktut alike, and always looked at Hakoda desperately when one of the kids misbehaved, never quite sure if he was allowed to speak to them about it or not. Hakoda was pretty sure that Bato had attended a few PTA meetings for him, he was pretty sure that whenever the kids had a question about homework or life or a concern that they were equally likely to go to Bato as they were to go to him or Gran-Gran. 

Even before Kya’s death, Bato had always expressed how deeply he loved Sokka and Katara, how much he cared for and adored them, how he had his own complicated relationship with the concept of children, and how he was uncertain if he would ever have biological children of his own - especially after years of hormone replacement therapy - and yet he loved Hakoda and Kya’s kids as if they were his own. At the time, it made him and Kya nearly tear up, so happy to have someone like Bato, with so much love in his heart for them and their children, in their family. Since Kya’s death, it only became more clear that some of the voids that they thought were left by Kya, were also spaces that Bato could fill, and had filled, for years. 

Hakoda mulled the idea - of him _dating_ Bato - over in his head. Surprisingly enough, to him at least, he found he wasn’t against the idea of being with his best friend. And looking over how much time they spent together, how often Hakoda would invite Bato to watch movies with him in his bed, how many responsibilities they shared, how he always felt a sense of comfort and belonging when Bato was by his side - different than how he felt with Kya, but no less intoxicating - Hakoda found he understood why his kids thought that he and Bato were already together. And he found that not only was he not opposed to the idea, but that it excited him, brought him comfort and a warm flush to his cheeks when he laid in the darkness of his bedroom at night. 

Hakoda still found it difficult to think about talking to Bato about it, so used were they to just knowing one another that they didn’t need to have hard talks with one another. But Hakoda found it easy to let Bato know what he wanted without words. When they drove Hakoda would reach over and hold Bato’s hand, earning him a surprised look that would morph into an uncharacteristically shy smile. When Bato cooked dinner Hakoda would join him in the kitchen, joking with him and helping out even when it wasn’t his turn to cook. Hakoda had taken to sitting close to Bato on the couch, even when there was ample room to spread out, and would carefully rest his head against Bato’s broad and boney shoulders, wrapping his arms loosely around Bato's narrow waist. 

It took a few weeks until Bato was finally sleeping next to Hakoda at night, hair fanned out on the pillow, shirt twisted from getting comfortable, his thin hand loosely holding Hakoda’s. At first, Hakoda was worried it would feel wrong, would feel like a shoddy and hurtful replacement for Kya, but all he felt was comfort and warmth when he opened his eyes in the morning and the first thing he saw was Bato.

It only took a little longer than that for Bato to softly press his lips against Hakoda’s, face illuminated by the dim bedside table lamp, both of them tired from a day’s work and from raising rowdy teens. He had to lean down to reach Hakoda’s lips, thumb rubbing a gentle circle on Hakoda’s sharp cheekbone. It felt so innocent, so chaste, and so much younger than they were as if they were teenagers still trying to figure themselves out in the back of their shitty shared car instead of in the house that they lived in together with Hakoda’s kids ( _Their kids_ , his brain supplied fondly). It made Hakoda smile. It made him reach up, fingers tangling themselves in Bato’s sleep braids, and pull Bato down for more. 

Hakoda had always known that Bato was his, but as he went to sleep with the taste of Bato’s lips on his tongue and with the image of Bato smiling sweetly in his mind, Hakoda was elated to realize that all this time he - and Kya and Sokka and Katara - have always been Bato’s too. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hakoda, Sokka and Katara's last names are based on a post by itszukkatime (https://itszukkatime.tumblr.com/post/624036759124230144/gaang-modern-au-lastnames )  
> once again... i an plagued by Not Being Able to Make Good Titles Disease so... i might change the title later lmao  
> anyways happy fleetweek !


End file.
